A Tale of Two Room Mates
by SnowingShipper
Summary: A collection of one-shots and drabbles based around Mary Margaret and Emma's relationship in Season One.
1. Find Us

**I've replaced the first chapter with this drabble instead of adding it as a new chapter because it was brought to my attention that my original first chapter bore an uncanny resemblance to 'Grounded!' by oldmcpiper. I did read this fic a while ago and must have had it in the back of my mind while I was writing my own chapter, but the similarities were entirely unintentional and I apologise for it. I have taken that chapter down and would suggest that you go and read 'Grounded!' because it is a very good story.**

Mary Margaret ran her fingers over the baby blanket yet again. She had tried many times, but she couldn't explain the connection that she felt to it. Lifting it from its box and holding it gently against her cheek, she could have sworn that she heard a baby's cries and the clash of swords and a soft whisper: _'Find us.'_

Mary Margaret dropped the blanket, shocked to find that there were tears in her eyes. Shaking her head, she pushed the strange sensation from her mind, dismissing it as sleep deprivation and an over-active imagination. She had almost forgotten about it, but, that night, she fell into an uneasy sleep with the whisper of "Find us" echoing in her ears and a dull ache in her heart for something she didn't know she'd lost.


	2. Room Mate Material

Emma dragged her feet and stifled a yawn as she opened the front door of the loft apartment after a long day at the station. She entered quietly, knowing that Mary Margaret was almost certainly asleep. Dropping her bag in the corner, she intended to grab something to eat from the fridge before crashing in bed when she noticed a plate and a folded note left on the kitchen counter. Curious, she picked the note up and opened it:

_Emma, _

_I knew you were working late so I've left you some dinner, it goes in the microwave for three minutes._

_ See you at breakfast in the morning,_

_Mary Margaret_

Emma rolled her eyes as she picked up the plate of beef stroganoff, but she couldn't help the small smile that came to her face. She might not have been room mate material, but, she had to admit, she enjoyed having one.


	3. Imagine

Mary Margaret pushed a cup of hot chocolate across the table towards Emma and smiled as her friend talked enthusiastically about her day with Henry. As the other woman spoke, Mary Margaret couldn't help but think back to their conversation about Henry's theory the night before and notice the similarities.

Emma certainly had her chin and a similar face shape, she smiled in almost the exact same way that Mary Margaret herself did and she had eyes that were as blue as David's. Mary Margaret smiled as she sipped her hot chocolate. She didn't believe Henry's stories of course, she was far too old to believe in fairytales, but, even still, it was still nice to imagine.


	4. Drunk

**Just found this on my computer and thought I'd upload it here. **

**Summary: After a night out with David, Emma puts a drunk Mary Margaret to bed.**

Emma swirled the dregs of her hot chocolate around in her mug as she watched the

arms of the clock tick slowly round. She wasn't sure why she was so worried. Mary Margaret was an adult and perfectly capable of looking after herself. Even still, she couldn't help but be concerned as 11 O'Clock, the time Mary Margaret had promised to be home by, came and went. By the time the clock struck 12, Emma was pacing the floor. She wasn't sure what she should do. Should she just wait and trust that Mary Margaret would eventually come back? Should she go out and try to find her just in case something had happened? Emma wasn't used to worrying about anyone other than herself and she had no idea how to deal with it.

As the clock approached 2 and Emma began to really panic, she heard footsteps in the hall. Emma swung the door open just as David moved to put the key in the door. Mary Margaret's arm was draped around his shoulders and, though they were stood still, she wobbled uneasily on her heels. Emma glared at David.

"You got her drunk?" she hissed angrily.

"No," David replied, indignation clear in his voice. "I tried to tell her to stop."

"Emma," Mary Margaret hiccuped, looking up at her room mate through hazy eyes. "How are you?"

Emma rolled her eyes, not bothering to respond to the question, and pointed David in the direction of Mary Margaret's bed. He brought her across the room, half carrying her as she stumbled, and dropped her onto the bed.

Mary Margaret wrapped her arms around David's neck and pulled him down with her, causing him to yelp in surprise.

"Stay here David," she slurred.

"Oh. . .um. . ." David stammered, trying to push himself off of the bed, but Mary Margaret kept her hands locked around the back of his neck. "Uh. . . Emma, a little help please?"

Emma leaned over and began to try and unattach her friends arms from David's neck. From here, she could smell the whiskey on Mary Margaret's breath and she glowered disapprovingly at David.

"Whiskey? Seriously?"

"She's not a child Emma," David argued, as Emma finally managed to disentangle him from Mary Margaret's arms, and he stood up and adjusted his shirt. "I'm not responsible for what she drinks."

Emma shook her head. "Just get out of here, David."

David left hurriedly and Emma turned her attention to her intoxicated friend.

"Christ, Mary Margaret," she muttered, as she began to pull off her roommate's shoes.

"Whatcha doin'?" Mary Margaret asked, pushing herself onto her elbows.

"Taking your shoes off so that you can go to bed," Emma responded shortly. The last thing she wanted to be doing at 2 O'Clock in the morning was tending to her drunken room mate.

"But I don't want to go to bed Emma. D'you know what we should do Emma we should dance!" Mary Margaret gabbled excitably, and Emma rolled her eyes.

"I don't dance, and I definitely don't dance with drunken women who should be sleeping," she said, as she shoved Mary Margaret's shoes under the bed and pulled back the duvet.

"Oh you're no fun!" Mary Margaret grumbled. "Nuh-uh, no fun at all!"

"Just go to sleep, Mary Margaret," Emma sighed, wondering how on earth a few drinks could turn her normally docile and soft spoken room mate into such an infuriating, whining monster.

"What? You won't even read me a bedtime story?" Mary Margaret smirked as she tried to stand up.

Emma grabbed her arm before she could stumble and fall, and pushed her down onto the bed. Pulling the duvet up, Emma glared at her. "Fine. Once upon a time, there was a woman named Mary Margaret who got really drunk. Then she annoyed her room mate, Emma, so much that Emma smothered her with a pillow. The end."

Mary Margaret began to giggle. "You're really, really funny Emma!"

"Yeah, I'm hilarious," Emma sighed exasperatedly. "Would you go to sleep already?"

"But it was a bad story!" Mary Margaret protested, and Emma groaned. "Tell me the story about me and David."

Emma frowned in confusion. "What? One day a seriously misguided woman kissed a coma patient, who turned out to be married, and then had an affair with him?"

"No no no no no no," Mary Margaret argued. "Tell me the story that Henry tells, with the troll bridge and the ring."

"You want me to tell you about Snow White and Prince Charming?"

"Yeah!" Mary Margaret smiled, and her eyes lit up.

Emma shook her head, but decided that maybe it would shut her friend up, so she sat down on the bed beside Mary Margaret. If nothing else, she thought as she tried to recall the story that Henry had told her so many times, at least she would be able to hold this over Mary Margaret's head for weeks when she sobered up.

"Uh, so yeah," she faltered, unaccustomed to storytelling. "Once upon a time, Snow White decided to rob Prince Charming, so she ambushed him in the woods because she was badass like that."

Mary Margaret giggled slightly, and Emma smiled, launching into the story with a little more confidence.

Mary Margaret was fast asleep before Prince Charming had even managed to find Snow White again, and Emma tucked the duvet up around her chin.

"'Night, Mary Margaret," she said softly, shaking her head again.

Finally, Emma climbed the stairs and crawled into her own bed, making a mental note to give Mary Margaret a very strong coffee the next morning and to _never_ let her drink whiskey again.


End file.
